


Nothing Makes Me Stronger Than Your Fragile Heart

by oneforyourfire



Series: Suho Birthday Sextravaganza [9]
Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: Tao, he deserves the world. Joonmyun, he aches to give it to him.





	Nothing Makes Me Stronger Than Your Fragile Heart

**Author's Note:**

> [i've waited a hundred years, but i'd wait a million more for you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKBfsz3P7Us)

There’s something decadent, something opulent, something utterly _elegant_ in the way that Tao melts back against their stiff, 100-thread count cotton sheets. 

Tao, he was made for luxury, for riches, for extravagance, made to be spoiled, made for silk sheets, expensive champagne, lavish dinners, fine wine, for precious jewels, penthouse suites, beach front views, made for more, made for _better_ , Joonmyun thinks deliriously, dizzily, but he settles for this, settles for him, his throat bobbing with the softest, breathiest, most decadent moan as Joonmyun’s mouth drags along his sternum, his hands settle on Tao’s thighs. 

Tao, he deserves the world. Joonmyun, he aches to give it to him. 

And it's thrilling, heady, touching someone so perfect and beautiful, knowing that Tao is his, his, his. 

Tao, he’s too regal and ethereal and too achingly beautiful for the stiff cotton of their sheets, for his calloused fingertips, Joonmyun’s own, for leftovers from his restaurant job, Joonmyun’s, too, for clipped coupons, pinched pennies, box wine on special occasions, for Joonmyun’s tiny apartment, his tiny bed. 

Joonmyun fans his fingers across his skin, feels the fine, rich tremble of his fine, rich skin, the thrum of his low, rich moan, the luxury and _majesty_ of him. Joonmyun fingers, palms tingle as he slides his hands up his bare inner thighs, over golden—gold, gold, gold—skin, memorizing the fine tremble of his flesh and the muscle beneath. They tingle, too, burn, too, as he glides up, up, up, palms rippling over his ribs, catching on the pucker of his nipples, the scratch of the dark hair on his chest, sliding over the contours of his tense, tense collarbone, the quiver of shoulders, cupping finally his throat, feeling the rich, rich ruin of his moan as he drags his thumbs over Tao’s jaw. 

He's too beautiful to bear sometimes. The regal cut of his jawline, the dignified definition of his cheekbones, the sharp corners of his dark, dark eyes, the luxurious plushness of his lips, the proud jut of his cock, the delicate, dignified twist of his strong waist. Every smooth, golden inch of him is perfect. 

Finely wrought, elegant, decadent, sharp and strong, fragile somehow, too, the kind of perfection that ensnares, that enchants, that enamors, the kind of beauty that _hurts_ to look at sometimes. His is the kind of regal, regal beauty people try to buy—buy for themselves. But Joonmyun supposes he’s trying, too, claiming him like this, feeling the helpless quiver of his moan, the anticipation thrumming through Tao’s tense body as he waits for Joonmyun to move first, give him what he deserves or what Joonmyun can manage. 

And it never really feels like enough with Tao, even when it’s Joonmyun that’s taking, taking what he doesn’t quite deserve, so greedy or starved or jealous for more, more of him, of this. 

There’s a ruined, drunken need in his touches and kisses, his mind hazing, hands staining gold as he cradles Tao’s jawline, slides slickened fingers between his legs, watches the decadent, opulent, elegant way he falls apart. 

Tao melts further into the sheets, goes soft and pliant, his hot breaths stuttering into breaking, broken little moans, and Joonmyun drags his mouth along the dip of his stomach, the curve of his hipbone, pushes his fingers deeper, harder, how Tao deserves, how Joonmyun aches to provide. 

And oh, Tao deserves only the best this world can provides, deserves to be draped in gold, deserves all the luxuries of the world, but this is the all that Joonmyun can offer. This, his love, his touch, the promise that he’ll give Tao everything he has, as long as he can. 

Harder, faster, deeper, a stretching, dragging grind that leaves him whimpering, his entire body _quivering_ with need. 

Tao’s pupils are blown, his heavy lashes pearling with overwhelmed tears, a fine sheet of sweat bathing his body glowing, and oh, Tao deserves that, too, to be trembling with pleasure, brimming with it, gasping with it. 

Settled between his legs, on the edge of his too small bed, in his two small apartment, Joonmyun drinks him in, decadent, opulent, elegant, regal, gold, beautiful, perfect, perfect, perfect, a vision of bruised lips, heaving breaths, shuddering limbs. 

“Fuck me,” Tao demands breathlessly, groping a hand downwards, twisting it weakly in his hair. “Please fuck me.”

Joonmyun’s hand curls around his hips to pull him closer, and Tao’s legs part, throat bobs with a moan. 

Joonmyun crawls over him, and Tao’s hand falls to his shoulder again, squeezing hard, squeezing cajoling. 

“Please,” he says. 

Tao, he deserves that, too. 

Tao melts _completely_ when Joonmyun sinks inside, his long, restless, shaking fingers skating over his shoulders, his back as he moans through the stretch, moans with the most rich, luxurious abandon, his body clenching as if to savor it.

Joonmyun pants, trying to savor it, too, as heat and pleasure and love love love course through his veins at the slick, slick slide of delicate muscles around his cock, the fine, fine quiver of Tao’s golden, regal skin

There’s decadence, opulence, elegance in the way he gasps as Joonmyun fucks into him, too, jaw slackening, eyelashes flutter, head tossing back, fingers squeezing, squeezing, squeezing, body squeezing, squeezing, squeezing like it’s his due, like he’ll have nothing else, nothing less, clenching purposefully as if to savor it

Joonmyun pulls back, thrusts forward hard, hard enough to have Tao’s sharp, dark, beautiful eyes hazing over with pleasure, to have his heavy, dark, beautiful eyelashes fluttering and pearling with tears, to have his head to tossing back with a heavy, hitching, rich moan, knocking against their headboard as his fingers to twist into fists in their sheets. 

There’s regality in the way arousal stain his chest, the way it colors his moans, tremors through his limbs. And Joonmyun wants to wring every last ounce of pleasure out of him, wants to have in drowning in it.

Like he deserves. Like Joonmyun can provide. 

He tilts his hips back, thrusts harder, faster, deeper, dragging, dragging, groaning at the way that Tao’s body tugs against his, the way his spine bows and sobs rings and body takes, takes, takes, takes. 

Joonmyun groans, also, at the gorgeous quiver of his thighs, his fingers, his moans, too, gorgeously trembly with need as he gropes down to touch himself. 

“Please,” he keeps saying. “Please, please, please.” 

Joonmyun gives, gives, gives, ears ringing, body burning, cock pushing, pushing, pushing. 

And Tao tips back, long and lean and lax lax lax with pleasure, wild-haired and wild-eyed, a corrupted, corruptible beauty. And he’s his his his, though Joonmyum could hardly afford to touch such pristine, perfect beauty, his his his and Joonmyun’s fingers sometimes stumble, breath often hitches with the utter gravity and vastness of his love. His, his, his as he shatters across his sheets, too. 

And oh there’s something decadent, something opulent, something utterly _elegant_ in the way he comes, too. Regal and luxurious and achingly, heartbreaking beautifully, his pupils blown, lips parted, eyebrows creased as he moans, moans, moans, spills between them and then drags him down, demands that Joonmyun, too, he wants it, too. 

And Joonmyun, he provides.

**Author's Note:**

> 9/11
> 
> "poor"


End file.
